The other day, the doctor told me I had to have an ultrasound. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious, just routine.
Wait, you weren’t worried? What?!
No, actually, that’s good.
I would hate for anyone to worry. It’s not worth it. Doesn’t get you anywhere. Ties you in knots and wastes your time.
Ok, now that’s out of the way. The lady at the desk when I booked in for my 430pm ultrasound appointment told me that it was a requirement to have a full bladder.
‘Drink 5 glasses of water. Before 320pm. If your bladder is not full enough then we will need to reschedule.’
Well, I’m here to tell you that ‘not full enough’ was not the problem!
Driving from work to the surgery with a very overfull bladder was the problem.
Mythbusters have done a ‘study’ on this (don’t get me started on their scientific technique) and found that the level of distraction when driving on a full bladder is similar to that of driving when very drunk. Oh boy. It was a scary trip from work to the ultrasound place. And I got there early too! About half an hour early. Hoping that they’d let me in early for the scan so that I didn’t burst in the waiting room!
I got into the scan about 12 minutes before my appointment time. I lowered myself gingerly to the couch and prayed the specialist wouldn’t push too hard on my stomach. She didn’t. It was all good. She did say (and I think this gets the ‘understatement of the year’ award) that my bladder was ‘very full’.
When she told me that it was all over and that I could use the bathroom, a small ‘hallelujah’ escaped my lips.
So my biggest achievement yesterday was not wetting myself.
As Sheldon Cooper says, ‘I am the master of my own bladder!’